Between the Bars
by Pandora Culpa
Summary: Tonks takes her turn at standing vigil during Remus' monthly transformation...only she has no intention of following the rules. A story of what happens the first time anyone other than the Marauders cares enough to spend a full moon night with the werewo


_…Drink up with me now, and forget all about_

_The pressure of days; do what I say_

_And I'll make you okay, I'll drive them away_

_The images stuck in your head_

_The people you've been before that you don't want around anymore_

_That push, and shove and won't bend to your will_

_I'll keep them still…_

Elliott Smith 

_"Between the Bars" _

The leaves shivered in the evening light as a sharp 'crack' resounded through the glade outside the cottage. In the dim green space that had been empty stood a young woman with a small satchel slung over her shoulder. She was an odd sight, dressed in dragonhide trousers and boots, with a Muggle leather jacket and black camisole. She glanced automatically at the sky, noting with satisfaction that the sunlight slanting through the trees indicated that nightfall was nearly upon her. One hand was unconsciously running through her hair; at each pass it changed color and texture, from sleek black, to curly red, to spiky blue. She chewed her lower lip nervously as she stared at the front door of the simple cottage before her. She had wanted to do this, wheedled and outright begged for the duty, but here she was, standing indecisively practically on his doorstep. For a moment the thought of abandoning the plan teased at her. _You can just do as expected and leave it at that. No one would think the worse of you, only you know what you're thinking about doing. You'd only be disappointing yourself. And what would they say if they did know? _

"Nymphadora Tonks, you're a damn dreaming fool, that's what they'd say," she muttered sourly, still eying the door. "Some Auror you are; can't even knock on a bloody door." She took a deep breath and marched up the steps, her sudden resolution spoiled somewhat by the din of smashing pottery as she tripped over a flowerpot and took out a hanging basket with her wildly windmilling arms.

The dreaded door burst open, and Remus Lupin appeared, wand raised and his tired eyes flashing in alarm. He looked somewhat ferocious despite his shabby state, and regardless of the fact that she herself was sitting on the porch covered in a fine layer of dirt, Tonks giggled. His expression melted quickly into one of confusion as he took in her state.

"Tonks?" he asked in quiet bewilderment, tucking his wand into his belt before offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet. "What on earth are you doing here? Wasn't this Arthur's night?"

Brushing soil and geranium petals out of her hair, she gave him her broadest grin. "It _was_, but Molly was fussing over him so, and he's been so tired lately anyway, and you know I hardly sleep at all these days, and I've never been asked to do this before, and…"

Remus held up a forestalling hand, a wry smile creasing his weary face. "Breathe much?" he asked her. "And you know very well why you've never been asked to do this."

She stuck out her tongue, hitching the satchel up more securely over her shoulder. "I'm an Auror, thank you very much; you'd think it would make a difference. It's not like I've never faced danger before. At any rate, they agreed that I could take Arthur's place, so you're stuck with me." The face changed to an impish smirk, her bright eyes winking at him through the shocking red tresses she had settled on.

It was the usual custom of the Order to send one member each full moon to stand watch over Lupin's transformations. While that one night of the month transfigured him into a beast of great destructive potential, it was also paradoxically when he was most vulnerable. Although the Wolfsbane Potion that he took these days curbed the worst of his appetites, his mind was still not wholly his own while in his wolf form. Therefore he would lock himself in a reinforced room in the cottage, and a member of the Order would sit vigil through the night. At first several of the Order had pressed for him to stay at 12 Grimmauld Place each month, but Remus had quickly shot that down. He noted that the Wolfsbane Potion's calming effect would likely be offset if he were in a house reeking of humanity. Furthermore, there were no rooms that would serve which were strong enough to prevent him from breaking free, a possibility that horrified him.

Tonks thought, too, that Remus probably didn't want to put too many people to the test of truly acknowledging his condition. It was one thing to know intellectually that your friend was a werewolf; it was quite another to witness the violent and disturbing change that was an aspect of his life. She suspected that more than once he had lost a friend in just such a manner.

Well, she wasn't afraid. Not much at least. Certainly not enough to allow one monthly event to sway the admiration she felt for Remus Lupin. He wasn't much to look at, at least not in terms of what could conventionally be called handsome…but then she had never been accused of being conventional herself. She just liked the way his prematurely grayed hair fell over his serious eyes. He was full of surprises; a veritable wellspring of knowledge of Dark creatures, a remarkable dry wit, and a quaint affection for Muggle jazz only topped the list of things about him that fascinated her. And now she was going to spend a full moon night with him…

He held the door for her, giving her a neat little half-bow as she preceded him into the small but tidy living room. She flopped noisily onto a threadbare green sofa while Remus retrieved a book that lay open on the floor beside a natty old wingchair before he gestured toward the kitchen. "We've got some time before moonrise; would you like some tea?"

"Er, no thanks. Ooh!" Tonks jumped suddenly, yanking the satchel around and plunging a hand into it. "I almost forgot! Your potion!" She fished about in the bag, producing odd clinks and clacks from within it until she finally produced a glass vial with a relieved sigh. Remus hurriedly took it from her with thanks, clearly fearful of her managing to drop the precious concoction. While he excused himself to the kitchen, she glanced around at his home curiously. It was not at all as she had expected; there was no roaring fireplace, the furniture was old and worn and not sleek leather, and the rags stuffed into the chinks around the window definitely hadn't been a part of the image she had formed of Remus Lupin's abode. Okay, she knew that _really _there was no way he could ever have afforded the effects that her mind placed around him. But it seemed so appropriate for such an intellectual to be surrounded by fine things; her mind balked at placing him amidst the battered furnishings and Spartan simplicity of his home.

"Nice place you have!" she chirped cheerfully at him as he reentered the room carrying a steaming goblet. He eyed her dubiously as he settled into the wingchair.

"It suffices, I suppose," he said, sniffing the contents of the goblet and pulling a face. "It's sadly lacking in amenities, but it's comfortable enough." He took a long swallow of the potion, wincing slightly. "Awful stuff."

"Oh, well you know what they say; location, location, location, right?" Tonks asked, gesturing expansively and narrowly missing a table lamp. "And you've got the prime spot, right in the heart of the woods. No noisy neighbors, just peace and quiet." She sprang back to her feet and skipped over to the window. "And just look at the scenery…yew trees, larch, I don't know what that one is, chestnut, er, that one's…" She trailed off as she heard Remus' dry laugh from behind her.

"Hmm, yes, how could I have missed that before?" he chuckled, coming over to stand alongside her, still carrying the goblet. "Quite the view, all those trees." He took another deep swig of the oily potion, his throat working convulsively to keep it down.

"Yes, well, Kingsley always did tell me I have a knack for picking out the obvious."

"Indeed." They stared out the window for a few minutes in companionable silence before Remus turned back to the interior of the room. She turned her back to the window but remained standing there, watching him as he finished off the last of the liquid in the goblet and set it aside in distaste. He noticed her scrutiny, and gave her a kind of sad smile.

"Of all the things I dislike about being a werewolf, I think that potion must come in second on the list," he commented with a light laugh, but Tonks could see a shadow behind his clear eyes and also that his smile didn't quite reach them.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she matched his tone. "So, what's the worst then?" She had already divined the answer from conversations with Sirius and Kingsley, but she wondered if he would be forthcoming with her.

He looked at her steadily for so long a time that she began fidgeting, and seriously considered retracting the question, but at last he shook his head a bit ruefully.

"Every time that a new person takes this duty, questions inevitably arise. I should have expected that you of all people would cut right to the heart of the matter." A hot flush rose in her cheeks, but he didn't seem angry, only resigned. Starting to feel that she should have shut her gob and let Arthur stand watch as scheduled, she concentrated intensely on the scuffed toes of her boots. _Maybe, if I imagine very hard, I can pretend I'm not some nosy, babbling idiot. _

"It's alright, Tonks," he said gently, correctly interpreting her silence. "It's normal to be curious about someone in my condition; I only meant to imply that you have an almost childlike ability to strike right at the root of issues most people try to skirt or clutter with euphemisms."

Feeling somewhat better, Tonks edged back over to the old couch and sat gingerly on the edge. "I'm not that young," she muttered halfheartedly, but relief washed over her that she had not performed her usual stiletto-heeled dance on someone's sensibilities. "So," she began hesitantly, "What is the worst part of being a werewolf?"

He glanced over at a small door she hadn't noticed before. "The worst part is the loneliness," he said simply. "A werewolf can't help being what it is, a vicious predator, although only once a month. But it…I…have to live with the constant alienation. Especially at the full moon." His expression was so melancholy that any thoughts Tonks may have had about changing her plan vanished.

She leaned across the space separating them and patted his knee, beaming at him like an imbecile. "But you won't be lonely tonight. I'll be spending it with you."

He gave himself a little shake, and eyed her with bemusement. "Of course you will. But you'll be out here, where it's safe. I'll be in there while I am transformed." He indicated the small door with a nod.

Glancing at him for permission, Tonks ambled over to the door and pushed it open. There was just enough room for it to swing wide; within was a heavy iron gate, which bolted into the walls like a jail cell. The room beyond the gate was bare and dirty, containing only a heavy porcelain dish of water in the corner. There were no windows. A torn blanket was discarded just inside the gate, and a second look revealed a few dark spots that appeared to be old bloodstains. She turned back to him quickly, her face pale with dismay and disbelief.

"You stay in _there_? It's horrible!"

Remus came over to her, taking her by the elbow and leading her away. "It's necessary. Before I was able to get the Wolfsbane Potion, I'd destroy anything else put in with me and if it weren't for the bars I'd break down the door. Even though the potion dulls the werewolf's instincts, it's much better to take all precautions. You have no idea the monster I become." His face was haggard, and by the time he finished speaking she had to strain to hear him.

Tears stung in her eyes at the injustice of the situation, but she blinked them away before he noticed. It was utterly wretched, knowing that shortly he would walk into that awful cell, and wait for his body to erupt into his wolf form. She had known that loneliness would be the answer he gave her, but until she actually saw that room she had no concept what the word meant.

"I'll stay with you in there." The words had left her lips before she had time to censor them.

He stopped walking, and turned to face her. "No," he said firmly.

"I would be safe. I'd sit with my back against the door; the bars would be between us…"

"I said no. It's much too dangerous."

"But Remus…"

" _No_, Nymphadora!" She spluttered indignantly at his usage of her hated first name, but shut up with one look at his expression. As when he had answered the door, his face was fierce and determined, but he glared at her with eyes gone from clear hazel to a bright gold. Wolf eyes.

"No," he said again, a little gentler this time. "You have to promise me that you will stay out here, away from that room, until the moon sets. I mean it, Tonks. It is for your own protection; no one is allowed within there."

She raised her chin mutinously. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"No, I wouldn't. But the wolf might."

They stared each other in the eye for a few moments until Tonks finally dropped her gaze, swearing. "Damn it, Remus. It's not fair."

He sighed. "Who said anything about fair, my dear? I gave up on the premise that life functions according to the principles of fairness at the age of six." He glanced out the window at the rapidly gathering gloom. "I've lost track of time. I'd better go ahead and get in there, so as not to be taken by surprise."

He turned and walked back over toward the door, but stopped halfway there, throwing a look of annoyance over his shoulder at her as she paced right behind him. Taking a deep breath and assuming a look of infinite patience he asked her, "Didn't we just discuss this?"

She nodded vigorously. "So what then are you doing?"

She gave him a silly, hopeful grin. "Well, since you aren't transforming _yet_, I thought that I could at least keep you company until you do. From the doorway. Not in the room." As he continued to stare sternly at her, her grin wavered, then fell into an almost comical expression of dismay. "Oh please, _please_, I can't stand the thought of you sitting in that awful place, all by yourself, waiting to turn into a monster!" Instantly she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide, as though trying to force the words back inside. "I didn't mean that! I didn't mean it like that!" she squealed at him, or at least he thought she did, through her muffling hands.

Reflecting that this was shaping into the most unusual full moon he had had since the Marauders prowled Hogwarts, Remus tried to smile reassuringly at her. "I understand. And I suppose that it would be alright for you to talk to me from the doorway, at least until I tell you it's time to shut the door. Breathe, Tonks. That shade of red you're turning clashes horribly with your hair."

Obediently she dropped her hands and drew a deep breath, simultaneously changing the vivid red hue of her hair to a deep midnight blue. Her face still burning, she managed a weak grin. "I'm glad you came to your senses," she quipped. He snorted, and she silently resolved not to push matters any further.

Pulling an old iron key from an inner pocket of his robes, he weighed it in his palm for a moment before passing it to her. She stared at the heavy key, blackened with age, as Remus once more approached the small cell. Pausing with one hand on the gate, he looked at her soberly.

"When I tell you it's time to go, I want no arguments from you. Just shut that door and bar it, and make yourself at home in the rest of the house. The icebox is stocked, so help yourself. Don't worry about letting me out after moonset; I'm usually exhausted and sleep for several hours after transforming back. I'll call you when I wake." He gave her his sad smile again and stepped into the cell, pulling the gate closed behind him. It latched with a loud clang, sending a little shiver down Tonks' back, and she walked forward reluctantly to lock him in. That task over, she settled comfortably in the doorway, while Remus seated himself upon the ragged blanket.

The two of them chatted pleasantly for nearly an hour. Tonks found herself recounting tales of growing up in a half-Muggle household, while Remus countered with exploits undertaken by the Marauders. She was openly envious of his adventures, wriggling with excitement as he spun each tale and constantly pressing for more details. As talk grew more animated, Tonks felt more and more as though she were a wide-eyed gaping child at the knee of some hero or storyteller. _So much for impressing him with my maturity,_she thought ruefully, all the while never noticing that he was just as attentive of her stories, laughing uproariously as she drew upon her Metamorphmagus abilities to enhance her tales with caricatured faces. In fact, he was laughing more than he had in months.

She was in the middle of a story about a bizarre prank she had pulled on a schoolmate (involving several overripe pumpkins, a jar of Skele-Gro, a very disgruntled salamander, and a twisted impersonation of a staff member) when a shudder passed through Remus' body. She paused, mouth wide open, and he said hoarsely, "It's time for you to go." As she hesitated, another tremor shook him. "GO!"

Without a second thought, she leapt to her feet and out the door, slamming it behind her. His voice had been nearly a growl, almost unintelligible. As she was lifting the heavy bar into place a wild howl shook the building, filled with rage and hunger. Despite all her training and courage, the bar dropped with a resounding crash as she took several steps back in panic. Nothing could have prepared her for the primordial fear that coursed through her at the werewolf's cry. It took everything she had to walk back over to the bar, to calmly lift it into place, and then not flee the house screaming her bloody head off. She took several deep, calming breaths as she backed away from the door, watching it as though at any moment the werewolf could come smashing through the wooden barricade.

"Get a grip, Tonks," she said firmly, or tried to. Her voice trembled quite annoyingly. "You knew what you were getting yourself into." She sat nervously on the edge of the green sofa, watching the door anxiously.

An hour passed. She never moved, only stared at the small rectangle at the end of the room and waiting for …something. Anything. There was nothing but silence, and it was starting to frighten her more than the terrible howl that had accompanied Remus' transformation. Night deepened, and still she stared, her mind racing furiously as she tried to imagine what he was doing. Picturing him in that cold, dark room was like a shock of cold water over her; he was penned, drugged, and treated like a pariah, and she sat here warm and cozy on his couch, scared silly. She grew angry with herself for thinking of him in the same way all the others had, and fear diminished gradually. That creature in there was her friend, he was _Remus_, and what kind of an idiot was she for thinking that he was some mindless killer? It was still his soul in that monstrous form, right? Besides, there were bars. And he had taken his potion.

Before her nerve could desert her, Tonks stood and marched over to the little door. As she hefted the bar, she thought that she heard movement coming from within, and her courage almost failed her. But again the idea of him enduring another night of solitude in that cell rallied her back to her plan. She took a deep, shaking breath and held it as she swung the door open.

A beam of light spilled into the dark room beyond the bars. For one awful moment Tonks didn't see him at all and thought that he must have somehow escaped. But then a shadow moved from the back of the chamber, slipping silently toward the glow and she got her first glimpse of the werewolf.

He was huge; she had expected him to be big, but she could have easily climbed onto his back and ridden him were that not certain of meeting with disastrous consequences. His head and shoulders were heavier than a normal wolf's, and his fangs were certainly longer. The beast exuded an unmistakable menace; it was Predator, and Tonks' primal senses told her that she was Prey. Golden eyes smoldered as he regarded her balefully, and her instincts shrieked, _Run! Run while you have a chance! Run!_

Somehow she mastered the impulse; instead she took a miniscule step past the doorframe, still keeping well back from the iron gate. A low growl rumbled through the room, and she shuddered uncontrollably. "I-I c-c-couldn't leave you a-a-alone," she panted. "A-a-and I never p-promised not to c-c-come in h-here; y-you know I d-didn't." She swallowed hard, and tried to steady her voice. "Besides, I never d-did finish telling my story." Trying to ignore the fearsome noises coming from the werewolf, she picked up the narrative of the story from where she had left off, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. He paced back and forth along the gate and his eyes never left her either, although she wasn't sure that was as flattering as she had once thought it might be. As the story wound to a close, she cast about desperately for another topic, anything to keep the silence from adding to her fears.

"Ooh, and did I ever tell you about the time I miscast a curse, and Gryffindor Tower had to be evacuated to clean out all the frogs? It all started…" She prattled on and on, barely pausing for breath before racing on to the next tale. All the while the wolf treaded past the bars, staring at her with his unnerving, unblinking gaze. The growls finally ceased, but his nose flared at her scent every time his pacing brought him near where she sat on the floor.

After a long time she finally had to stop, her mouth dry from the continuous flood of words. "I'm sorry," she croaked, as the werewolf sat down as near to her as the bars would allow and bared his teeth slightly. "I think I'm losing my voice. I don't think I can keep on talking." A blood-chilling snarl came from the wolf, his eyes intent upon her. A disconnected portion of her brain remarked how unlike Remus' eyes they were; his allowed one into its depths, while the wolf's were like a mirror. She could see her reflection staring wide-eyed back at herself in the huge gold orbs, and a childish voice out of her memory spoke up suddenly over the fearsome sounds emanating from much too close: _music soothes the savage beast. _

She could have laughed at the absurdity of it. She had it on good authority that her singing voice was likely good for cutting glass, 'screechy' being the nicest description she could remember being applied in connection with it. Somehow she doubted that even an unlikely connoisseur of music such as the werewolf would find anything soothing about a song or two from her. But the growls were increasing in pitch, and she knew that she would have to try something or else admit defeat and shut him back in that dark cell all alone. More out of desperation than any real hope of success, Tonks started humming tonelessly.

At the first sounds the werewolf pricked up his heavy ears, and although he continued to rumble noisily he appeared a little less agitated. She persisted, humming enthusiastically, sometimes following the melody of a song she knew and sometimes just making noise. Eventually he settled down before the gate, lying pressed against the bars as close as he could reach to her, his golden eyes reflecting green in the light from the living room. Tonks found that the humming didn't hurt nearly so much as talking, and applied herself to it with satisfaction. A couple of times she surprised herself by closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the doorframe; actually taking her attention off of the werewolf that lay only a meter or so away.

On one such occasion, as she startled back into awareness of her surroundings she noticed that the wolf had laid his head down on his front paws and his eyes were closed. Keeping up the low drone that she was currently humming, she shifted slightly to better view him. His sides rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm, gray hairs sparkling amidst the brown in his shaggy fur. His front legs bore evidence of many old scars under the hair; she supposed that he had bitten himself long ago, and then remembered, too, that she had never seen Remus wearing anything but long sleeves. His dark nose twitched as she crept just a bit closer, no longer humming, but speaking to him in a low, calming voice.

"Why did you hurt yourself, my lad? Oh, you poor fellow, you've had such a rough time. I wish I could do something to make it better, so you didn't have to go through this every month. Easy, easy, easy," Tonks whispered as the huge wolf snuffled restlessly in his sleep, but she didn't stop creeping nearer to him. She was very close to him now, able to feel the heat that emanated from his body in the chilly air of the cell. "You're no monster; you don't want to hurt anyone. That's probably why you were destined to be bitten, you know. You're the only person I've ever heard of whose life wasn't totally devastated by lycanthropy. You can overcome it, and I'll bet you were fighting to overcome it before you were ever able to take the Wolfsbane Potion." She was babbling, and knew it, but it didn't matter so long as the tumble of speech continued uninterrupted. She was crouched beside him now, only the bars separating them. Her heart pounded so hard that it was almost painful but she went on murmuring to the slumbering werewolf.

"You wouldn't hurt me. I don't think you'd hurt any of your friends. You aren't some mindless killer- you're my very good friend Remus Lupin. And I like you, wolf and all. I trust you, even if you don't trust yourself."

Very hesitantly, Tonks stretched a trembling hand between the bars to hover over the werewolf's shoulder where it was pressed into the gate. Once again fighting her instincts, which were screaming of danger, she slowly and gently stroked the thick, dappled fur. It was surprisingly soft, almost like a rabbit's, although coarser. Tonks hurriedly glanced at the wolf's head, but her careful touch did not appear to have woken him. She smiled faintly, and let the string of words trail away as she resumed her humming, occasionally reaching out to run her hand lightly over the werewolf's coat.

Gradually, she grew tired. Her throat ached and her hand, now buried in the deep fur of the wolf's side, was beginning to go numb. Tonks estimated that it must have been at least four hours since she had entered the small room after the transformation. It was becoming harder to concentrate; once or twice now she had caught herself nodding off. The rational part of her mind told her that she should retire back to the living room, that she had done what she had set out to do and now was the time to get out before she lost an arm, or worse. But still she sat, unmoving except for her fingers slowly curling and uncurling through the werewolf's fur. Her eyes drifted lazily over the beast beside her, appreciating the way the gray and brown merged and flowed along his back and up his neck, to the ruff around his face.

Tonks nearly shrieked aloud as she saw then that the werewolf's eyes were open, the flat gold discs holding her stunned reflection. Automatically she began humming again, and she wondered if she would have time to get her arm out before he could snap it off once he noticed its presence. His dark nose was twitching, but he lay quiescent under her hand, his eyes watching her intently and surprisingly without the fire that had burned in them earlier. Tonks could barely believe the situation. _If I weren't so tired I'd surely think I had gone over the edge, doing something like this_, she thought hazily, still gently patting his side.

How long they remained like that, she couldn't guess, but her whole world seemed to consist of warm fur and golden eyes. At some point she must have slept, for she came to consciousness feeling a dull throb in one arm. She sat up stiffly, rubbing her arm vigorously and trying to figure out where she was.

Then it hit her, so hard that she nearly retched. _She had fallen asleep with her arm in a werewolf's cage!_ Hurriedly, she checked herself over; no bites, fingers all present and accounted for. Sunlight streaming in from the living room told her it was well into the morning, and she turned back to the cell with trepidation.

Remus lay curled on his side with his back pressed against the gate, still sleeping, and filling the room with a soft, rasping snore. Tonks noted with a sudden stab of embarrassment that he wore nothing but his skin; of course, there was no way that robes could have enveloped the massive wolf's body. Seeing his in tatters in a corner, she rose to her feet and tiptoed with exaggerated care into the house, where she rummaged around in closets until she found a set of clean, intact robes. She returned to the cell, leaving them folded in easy reach with the iron key lying on top, then shut the door and curled up in a ball on the threadbare green couch. Her body craved more sleep, but her mind buzzed furiously, replaying the silky feel of fur and the terror that had coursed through her at his proximity. At long last the blur of images faded, and she sank into dreams.

A short while later the little door creaked and Remus appeared, clothed and with a strange expression on his face. His eyes fell upon her slight figure huddled like a child on his couch. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and she had folded her hands beneath her cheek, her hair fanning out around her face like some crazy blue frame. Trying not to wake her, he seated himself in the old wingchair, but the slight rustling roused her. Blinking at him blearily, she grumbled incoherently, "Whazza 'dea, ge' meep 'surly?" He coughed delicately and her eyes snapped open, alert this time.

"Remus! I didn't hear you call me!"

"I don't doubt that," he told her dryly. "You had quite the night, didn't you?"

Feeling distinctly ill, Tonks could only gaze silently back into his clear eyes, once again hazel. There was nothing she could say; while technically she hadn't promised to enter the room, it was understood, and they both knew it. Of course he would remember, and even if he didn't the robes and key were evidence that she had broken the rule. But she didn't regret it; she felt fully justified in running the risk to keep him company. Belatedly she realized that the Order might not agree with her reasoning, and Tonks' stomach lurched again as she wondered what kind of punishment she had set herself up for.

But Remus only smiled slightly, the usual melancholy missing from the expression. "As it turns out, I did too. Thank you Tonks. That was an incredibly rash and dangerous thing you did, but you have no idea what your courage meant to me last night. No doubt I _should_ tell the others what happened…" Clear hazel eyes studied her intently, and she was reminded for a moment of how the wolf had stared at her the night before. "…but if I did, then they probably wouldn't let you come back again."

Tonks' jaw dropped inelegantly before she caught herself. "Remus, are you saying that you would want me to stand duty with you again?"

He gave her another broad smile, untainted by sadness. "Call me Moony."

Overwhelmed with relief and touched by his praise, she managed to splutter something appropriate in response as he left the room to prepare their breakfast. Tonks watched him go, her head spinning. She had expected him to tell her off, at the very least, but he wasn't even angry with her. More amazingly, he appreciated it. Her heart gave an unexpected, happy little flutter and she felt the beginnings of a maniac grin creeping onto her face. She had done it. Feeling quite her old self again despite her exhaustion, Tonks began happily planning how to secure the duty again next month.


End file.
